<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>If You’ve Ever Been to Heaven, This is Twice as Nice by oikaiwas (unfinishedpages)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077180">If You’ve Ever Been to Heaven, This is Twice as Nice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfinishedpages/pseuds/oikaiwas'>oikaiwas (unfinishedpages)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>That Kind of Love [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Kuroo's Questionable Spending Habits, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Smut, just a smidge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:20:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfinishedpages/pseuds/oikaiwas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo's spending habits come under his business partner's scrutiny, much to his mortification. </p><p>Luckily for him, Tsukishima is generous enough to make his dreams come true.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>That Kind of Love [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Haikyuu NSFW Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>If You’ve Ever Been to Heaven, This is Twice as Nice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for HQ NSFW Week 2020:</p><p>Day 2 - <b> Clothing and Accessories </b> | Against the Walls/ Windows | <b> “Please don’t stop doing that.” </b></p><p>This one really took a turn when I saw the tiers. Yeah. Sorry. </p><p>In terms of the linear setting where it fits into the previous fic's plot, I guess its just set beyond the events of the first one, let's say a couple of months.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Kuroo arrives at the office to an email from Daichi, titled <b>Important: Talk ASAP </b> and nothing else in the subject, and once he opens it, it reveals nothing more than a succinct note of, “ <em> Please come by my office once you’re available. There is something we need to discuss. -D.” </em></p><p> </p><p>The email doesn’t scare him, per se, but it does raise some level of alarm in Kuroo’s head. After being notified by his assistant that he had no other pressing matters immediately lined up in the morning, he makes his way to the other man, waving at Daichi through the glass wall separating his office from the rest of the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Daichi’s eyes widen at the sight of him, downing his mug of tea with all the weight of the world on his shoulders before Kuroo comes round to push his office doors open. “You needed to see me?” He asks, an eyebrow already arched up in question. </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo thinks he’s seen the older man do the sign of the cross, albeit shakily. </p><p> </p><p>Now, that was strange. </p><p> </p><p>What kind of thing did they need to talk about that Daichi needed the guidance of <em> another religion’s deity </em>?</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yes. Do sit down. This can be long, or short, depending on what you answer to my questions.” Daichi says, lips curling up into the familiar tight-lipped smiles he puts on when he’s dealing with a particularly difficult set of clients.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo does sit down, even leaning back on the plush leather seats Daichi keeps in front of his office desk and crossing his legs. “Am I getting fired? Because technically, you can’t fire me.” He offers jokingly, and it does help lighten the particularly troubled look on Daichi’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t a business ownership matter, Kuroo.” He replies with a shake of his head. “But, I wouldn’t take my finger off your lawyer’s speed dial yet.” Daichi scrolls through something through his iPad, before turning it around and beckoning Kuroo to come closer.</p><p> </p><p>“We share a corporate account, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“...yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“And part of that is a connected company credit card, yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Get to the point, Daichi.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am. As senior partners, we’ve agreed to be privy to purchases made on our company credit cards to a certain degree.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where are you going with this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just answer this: are you aware that when you use your company credit card to buy something online, Bokuto and I can see your activity?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that’s what we agreed on, transparency on finances and whatnot.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I have to reason to believe that perhaps, your credit card was phished online and is being used by someone else now.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? That’s impossible.”</p><p> </p><p>Daichi flicks to an excel sheet with a few cells highlighted in yellow and zooms in. “Or, you really were the one to make more than a thousand dollar purchase from,” he coughs, lowering his voice so that only Kuroo would hear, “<em>La Perla? </em>And the other hundred dollar purchase from <em>Agent Provocateur?</em> <em>”</em></p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s face pales, and burns hotly under the pretentious lamp in Daichi’s office, all in an interval of twenty seconds. </p><p> </p><p>He remembers being truly lost in fuck one night with Tsukishima and offering him the proposition, mostly due to his overbearing curiosity, and the fact that Tsukishima could make anything he wore look stunning that it made Kuroo want to rip it off of him. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I bet you’d look good in lace, Kei, don’t you think? You’d look good enough to eat.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>When Tsukishima opened his mouth to moan onto Kuroo's lips, eyes dazed as he nodded feverishly, rolling his hips down to meet Kuroo’s thrusts. <em> “Wanna look good for you.” </em></p><p> </p><p>That’s how he found himself two hours later with Tsukishima’s arms wrapped around his waist and nose nudged against his neck, scrolling through a lingerie website in the darkness of his bedroom. </p><p> </p><p>The cold metal case of his phone contrasting the way his palms grew sweaty with the thought of Tsukishima wearing any of these lacy, provocative numbers, and being able to tear it off with his teeth. </p><p> </p><p>Unable to get his wallet in fear of disrupting Tsukishima’s slumber, he grabbed whatever card sitting in the card slot behind his phone and went to town. </p><p> </p><p>Which brings him back to the matter at hand. </p><p> </p><p>He opens in his mouth in an attempt to speak, but the other man’s gaze pins him down. </p><p> </p><p>What a fucking idiot he’s been, not using his personal card.</p><p> </p><p>“I,” Kuroo starts, but the resolve leaves him quickly as soon as his thoughts fail to provide him with a coherent answer. “I can explain?”</p><p> </p><p>Daichi pins him with a long stare, dark brown eyes piercing into Kuroo’s very own soul. “Well, that’s an answer.” Daichi deems his reaction strong enough to pass as a proper verbal confirmation to his answer. “Just be careful next time, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uhuh,” Kuroo answers back dumbly, nodding again and unable to meet his partner in the eyes. “Will do.”</p><p> </p><p>Daichi’s brows furrow, immediately shaking his head. “I’m serious.” He scrubs at his face at a pace of a man that has seen and known too much of other people’s private businesses. He shakes his hand towards the general direction of his office door. </p><p> </p><p>“Look, Tetsurou, I know we are all pretty open about these kinds of things with each other, but perhaps better financial practices should be employed for these...<em> interests. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Gotcha.” Kuroo mumbles. “I gotta switch my personal card on my cardholder, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo walks back into his own office with a grim cloud of mortification looming on his person, which was promptly made worse by seeing Bokuto sitting on his desk with those ugly fur-lined leather mules on his feet and a knowing grin on his bright face. </p><p> </p><p>Groaning, he had immediately raised a finger up to silence the other man before he had opened his mouth. “What? I didn’t even say anything yet.” Bokuto teases. </p><p> </p><p>“No, knowing you, you’ll never let this go.” </p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s rare to see you slip like this, and my god, is it entertaining.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo lets out a defeated sigh, and the look on his friend’s face quickly makes him wonder if nine-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday was too early to add a shot of whisky to his coffee, with his face still flushed and palms still sweaty.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Two weeks later, in the safety of Kuroo’s apartment, Tsukishima flushes close to twelve shades of red down to his chest when a nondescript black paper bag is gently pushed into his arms by an uncharacteristically shy Kuroo. </p><p> </p><p>“I bought these for you.” He says, unable to meet Tsukishima’s eyes when the younger digs one of his hands to pull out one of the boxes, his fingers lingering on the champagne ribbon on the ivory and cream packaging.</p><p> </p><p>The elegant script of the brand on the lid makes Tsukishima a touch too warm in his cardigan, fingers itching to unravel the ribbon and sate his burning curiosity. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re allowed to say no to my whims, Kei,” Kuroo speaks out carefully, scratching at the back of his ear. “It’s okay if you don’t want to try it, it can be returned.”</p><p> </p><p>“I said yes, didn’t I?” He answers back in a measured tone, yet still on the edge of provocation. Kuroo’s eyes whisk up from the floor to the length of Tsukishima’s crossed legs and finally, to his face with a lingering heat to his gaze. "Do you want me to wear these, or not?"</p><p> </p><p>“I like it when you’re dressed up pretty for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> already </em>pretty, so there’s one of the requirements already done and over with.” Tsukishima shoots back, setting the ivory box back into the paper bag. “Plus, Akaashi-san already told me about the credit card fiasco.” He offers, smiling in spite of Kuroo’s chagrin. </p><p> </p><p>“Kou’s got a big mouth.” Kuroo groans, exasperated, leaning back on the chair and rubbing at his face. </p><p> </p><p>“That he does,” Tsukishima replied with another smile, nodding almost solemnly. </p><p> </p><p>“I admire your resolve to continue with this, despite the thought that both of your partners are now aware that you want to see me in women’s underwear.” Tsukishima bites back a bigger grin, before he gently puts the paper bag aside and stands up with a measured grace from the armchair, already padding up to Kuroo. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you want me to call you daddy too?” </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s face burns brighter than the burgundy of his sweater at the title falling from Tsukishima’s lips, averting his gaze away from the younger man and focusing on the particular interesting lighting fixture behind his blond head of hair. </p><p> </p><p>“Is that a yes, Kuroo-san?” Tsukishima teases, reaching out to tip Kuroo’s chin up with a slender finger. </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo swallows, throat bobbing when he does. The dark flush on his face relaxes to a soft pink. “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>Their power dynamic between them has shifted, and Tsukishima loves the effect it has on Kuroo. “When do you want it?” Tsukishima asks, staring down at the older man from the tip of his nose. </p><p> </p><p>“Surprise me,” Kuroo answers, blinking up at him with those thin rings of amber around his pupils. “Your terms and mine, remember.”</p><p> </p><p>The sharp ping of Tsukishima's phone quickly dissipated the building heat between them. </p><p> </p><p>“Always so considerate, Kuroo-san.” Tsukishima comments, leaning down to press a kiss on Kuroo’s cheekbone, and another on his lips. “My cab’s here. Have an early shift.” He murmurs his goodbyes, leaving the apartment with little fanfare and a promise to blow Kuroo’s mind in the coming days. </p><p> </p><p>“See you.” Kuroo greets back to no one in particular, before deflating into his seat. </p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima lets out a shaky breath he didn’t realise he’s been holding for the longest time as he sinks into his mattress, locked in the sanctity of his bedroom, and his roommate whisked away to an exotic island somewhere in Asia for his birthday for the entirety of the weekend courtesy of Bokuto.</p><p> </p><p>He stares at the paper bag sitting at the foot of his bed and finally lets his curiosity win over him. </p><p> </p><p>With a few short tugs on the satin ribbon, it unravels in his lap and when he finally opens the box, he stares at the delicate tissue paper covering the even more delicate intimates Kuroo had bought for him. </p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima bites at his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth when he pries the sticker off and finally, pulls up the silky piece by the straps when he dips his hand into the box. He blinks almost worriedly a couple of times, exhaling at the garment he was holding up in the air.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He can work with this, Tsukishima thinks, Kuroo never asked to widen their <em> sexual </em>horizons too often so to speak. </p><p> </p><p>He figures he could let him have this one thing.</p><p> </p><p>Well, <em> two things, </em>exactly.</p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima brings his hands down on his lap to gauge the feeling of silk and lace against his skin when he sets it over his chest. He doesn’t dare even try it yet, knowing deep in the pit of his gut that it will fit. </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo knew his measurements to a T, but women’s lingerie didn’t exactly have the <em> allowance </em>for what he had. If it didn’t fit, well, he could just wear nothing. Kuroo wouldn’t dare complain about that. </p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>One evening, after a particularly long day of tours at the museum that left him drained and exhausted all over, came a sense of adrenaline-fueled bravery Tsukishima didn’t exactly expect after a long shower of scrubbing himself clean from a full day’s worth of sweat at the gym showers. </p><p> </p><p>He had actually gotten himself waxed, fully booking a walk-in appointment with his face flushed underneath his mask.</p><p> </p><p>The esthetician had been kind enough not to mention his bubbling mortification while his legs pushed up his chest, distracting him with small talk before she ripped a strip from his thigh with a practised hand that had Tsukishima biting down on his sweater sleeve with an awkward squeal. </p><p> </p><p>Needless to say, it had been an awkward subway ride home, with his head ducked down and his skin tingling underneath the surface both from the waxing session and anticipation. </p><p> </p><p>He stood in his bedroom, skin as bare as the day he was born and silk cool on his skin. Digging his toes in the carpet, Tsukishima watches himself in the mirror. </p><p> </p><p>This was <em> different, </em>Tsukishima remarks, turning his body this way and that, cocking a hip out before reaching down to trail his fingers from the skin toned bands around the thickest portion of his thighs up to the hem of the slip, dragging it up to the line of lace on his hips.</p><p> </p><p>He reaches up to ruffle his curls up, tries to make himself look softer to suit the baby pink silk and the ivory lace trailing up the vee of his chest. </p><p> </p><p>Might as well make Kuroo’s mortification at the office well worth it. </p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Rapture comes for Kuroo a few days later in the early hours of the morning, in the shape of Tsukishima Kei, barely clad in powder pink silk satin and nylon thigh highs, all too determined to ride Kuroo’s brains out of his ears. </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo wakes up to slow, methodical grinds and a familiar weight on top of his hips, clammy hands slipping up his shirt as the figure above grinds down perfectly on top of his morning wood. He felt a kiss placed on the edge of his jaw, and teeth on his ear as a voice panted out a butchered greeting. “Good—<em> ah </em>—good morning, daddy.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Daddy.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Holy fuck. </p><p> </p><p>“Kei?” Kuroo rasps out, finally coming to his senses to see Tsukishima on top of him in the slip he had bought him, one of the delicate straps slipping off a smooth shoulder as he throws his head back to gasp, nails scraping the skin of the older man’s chest as he ground down harder, making them both moan.</p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima smiles down at him almost sweetly, though the iron in his voice betrays the <em> delicateness </em>of his image. “Were you expecting someone else?” </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo shakes his head, swallowing heavily, Tsukishima’s lips were pinker than normal. Was he wearing makeup too? “What a surprise.” He rasps.</p><p> </p><p>“Does it—<em> ah— </em>count as a surprise if it was premeditated?” </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo wonders how Tsukishima manages to keep his wits about him when Kuroo himself hasn’t even gotten over the moment <em> Daddy </em> slipped off his lips, much less the other barrage of words afterwards. </p><p> </p><p>“I guess not.” He whispers, reaching up to run his fingers up the nylon of Tsukishima’s thigh highs, groaning out loud when he feels the matching silk barely covering the swell of the younger’s ass. </p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima seems determined to make Kuroo come in his underwear at half-past six on a Tuesday morning when the sun has barely risen, all pretty and flushed and the personification of utter sin above him. </p><p> </p><p>He might have to call ahead and ask his assistant to cancel any morning engagements or miss the entirety of his workday altogether to savour this, to savour Tsukishima dressed so pretty for him.</p><p> </p><p>When Tsukishima leans down to lick at the tendons of his tensed neck, Kuroo hisses at the sudden nick on the soft skin of his collarbones. </p><p> </p><p>“Well?” He starts, soft and shaky as he spreads his legs farther, slowing the fast bucks of his hips into slow, deep and utterly filthy figure eights on Kuroo’s now fully hard cock. </p><p> </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it everything you’ve thought of?” Tsukishima straightens his back to steady himself, chest heaving hard until one side of his slip dips further down his chest to reveal a nipple, the peaked nub rosy against the pale skin of his chest. “Me in all this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uhuh,” Kuroo makes a sound of affirmation, reaching up to twist Tsukishima’s visible nipple and making him keen and grind down harder, the telltale of creaking of the bed frame growing louder with every buck of his hips. “You look like a dream come true, Moonshine.” He says, almost reverently. </p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima grins, sharp and knowing, albeit a bit dazed as he reaches down to grab Kuroo’s hands, dragging them up his thighs to his waist, making sure to bunch the fabric of his now rumpled slip up on their trail, their hands resting on the dip of his waist. </p><p> </p><p>“D...do you like it?” The younger asked, voice soft and doubtful as he ceased all his actions. Tsukishima looks down at Kuroo expectantly, swollen lip in between his teeth and fingers shaking around Kuroo’s hands on his thighs.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes were blown out, the piercing honey gold of his irises softened to something hazy, soft, and yielding. </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo could die tomorrow and land himself at the gates of heaven, and he’d still choose to crawl back to Tsukishima instead. </p><p> </p><p>He can only stare up at him, slack-jawed at the sight of the waistband of the lingerie digging slightly into Tsukishima’s hips, the flushed pink of the silk beautiful and sensual on flushed skin, the rosy head of his hard cock peeking up from the waistband.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo felt his entire mental processes derail within a split second, committing the image to memory. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> I fucking love it,” </em> Kuroo moaned out appreciatively, “You look absolutely perfect. You look gorgeous.” He sits up, pulling a hand away from Tsukishima’s shaky grip and trailing it down the soft swell of his ass, and squeezing at the thick flesh. </p><p> </p><p>The moan that ripped itself from Tsukishima’s throat is obscene when Kuroo’s other hand travels between his legs, whimpering when he feels the pad of Kuroo’s fingers move his panties to the side and rub slow, deep circles against the sensitive skin of around his hole, noting the slickness of his rim. </p><p> </p><p>If Tsukishima did this kind of thing regularly, Kuroo wouldn't have any brain cells left for him to be able to breathe. </p><p> </p><p>“You look fucking delicious, baby, prepared yourself too.” Kuroo groans as he kisses up Tsukishima’s neck, a single finger dipping into his stretched rim and sliding up to the second knuckle slowly. Tsukishima lets out a low sob, quivering in his arms when he felt the finger curl against his walls. </p><p> </p><p>“What do you think, baby? Do you think you look pretty?” He whispers, smiling when Tsukishima nods, quick to appease. “Yeah,” He moans, whimpering as he grips the older man’s shoulders to ride his fingers. “I feel pretty.”</p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima lets out a high, breathy moan when another finger slips into him, crying out as they twist deeper. “Wanted to be pretty for Daddy.” He whispers hesitantly, the muscles of his thighs shaking on either side of Kuroo’s hips as he grinds his cock down against the firm plane of Kuroo’s abs. </p><p> </p><p>“And you did a great job,” Kuroo speaks against the heated shell of Tsukishima’s ear. “Can you do Daddy a favour, first?” He asks, rewarding Tsukishima with a nip to the jaw, and grinning when he nods his head slowly.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it?” Tsukishima’s voice cracks when three fingers all curl into his prostate, throwing his head back from Kuroo’s relentless thrusts. “Good. I need you to be quiet for a bit, baby,” The older man hummed, blindly reaching for his phone on the nightstand.</p><p> </p><p>“Need to let them know I’ll be late—<em> god— </em>that I’m preoccupied.” Kuroo pulls him closer, pressing their lips tight to steal Tsukishima's breath straight from his lungs. “Can you do that, can you wait for me?” </p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima can only nod, eyelids fluttering as he bites down a whimper deep in his chest. “I can do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.”  He can only hold onto Kuroo’s shoulders for dear life, hips riding the older man’s fingers without tiring while Kuroo waits for his assistant to pick his call up. “Hello, Inoue?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “...Kuroo-Buchou?”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Kuroo answers, giving Tsukishima a pointed look at the pinched moan that escaped his lips when he pulls his fingers out and wipes them out haphazardly on his sheets. “Good morning.”</p><p> </p><p>He mouths something at Tsukishima, who is quick to rummage at the drawers to offer it to him after blinking away the overstimulated tears from his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Buchou!” </em> Kuroo hears the faint rustling of sheets, and Inoue barely sounds fully awake when he continues. “ <em> Good morning! What can I do for you? Shall I order you breakfast for the office later?” </em></p><p> </p><p>“No need for that. Sorry for the extremely early call,” Kuroo holds his fingers out for Tsukishima to pour lube over, spreading it over with his thumb and curling an overly slick finger towards him. </p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima scoots closer on Kuroo’s thighs at the command, shivering at the soft flannel of Kuroo’s pyjamas between his legs. </p><p> </p><p>“And, sorry for the late notice, but I don’t think I’ll be able to come in at eight.” He murmurs, reaching out to circle the rosy head of Tsukishima’s cock with the tip of his finger, which makes him lurch, shaking fingers digging into his shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>“I have a personal engagement that <em> just can’t wait. </em> I might be able to come back to the office by eleven, at the earliest. Two at the latest.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo is quick to mute his audio feed when Tsukishima tugs at his hair for a slick, open-mouthed kiss, shivering when Kuroo’s grips grow a touch firmer around his cock. “Shh,” He reminds Tsukishima before he holds the phone back to his ear. </p><p> </p><p>“Kindly reschedule any important meetings l have after lunch,” Tsukishima is quick to fuck into the tight, slick circle of Kuroo’s fist, uncaring if Kuroo's phone is able to pick it up, biting down at his lip hard enough to bruise when the older man pulls his hand away. “And if it can be settled through an email without rescheduling, then please do so.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Of...of course, sir.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Order yourself breakfast and lunch from my usual restaurant. Put it on my card, to make up for this inconvenience. Remind Bokuto our lunch meeting is still a go.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “That won’t be necessary, sir—” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I insist. Take your pick.” Kuroo replies, leaving no room for argument but all too determined to end the call quickly. “Email me my new schedule before ten, and let me know if some are being particularly difficult. I’ll deal with them this afternoon.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Noted, sir.” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Inoue. Goodbye.”</p><p> </p><p>As soon as Kuroo ends the call, Tsukishima pries the phone out of his hand and sets it back on his nightstand with a touch of impatience. Kuroo graces him with a devilish smile, reversing their positions with a mere buck of his hips. “Impatient,” He comments, clicking his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima’s irritation swims in his irises, his jaw tensing their eyes meet, shivering at the unabashed lust in the amber of his eyes. He tempers his restlessness when he spreads his thighs to accommodate Kuroo in between his legs and feels the heat of Kuroo’s appreciative gaze settling on his skin. </p><p> </p><p>“I was good,” Tsukishima remarks petulantly, making Kuroo laugh with the sheer lust and thin impatience mingling in his voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, you were,” Kuroo murmurs, running his hands all over his skin with rapt attention before settling down over the waistband of the silky lingerie. He humours himself by snapping the elastic band of the thigh highs on one of Tsukishima’s thighs, chuckling when the frustrated furrow between the younger’s brows deepens. </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo only narrowly dodges a nylon-clad foot to the face when Tsukishima raises his leg, foot resting square on his chest. Even Tsukishima’s signature aloofness does nothing to hide how restless he’s getting, a deep pout on his lips. “I’d like to get fucked within the next century, please.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll get there, I promise.” The older sinks down to press heated kisses on Tsukishima’s neck, running his tongue on the jut of the younger’s throat. “Not too high,” Tsukishima reminds him, patting at his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>It would be unbecoming for the museum’s star intern to come to work with such a visible bruise so high on his neck, after all.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo pulls Tsukishima down by his spread thighs so that his head is resting on the pillows, and makes up for not being able to mark the jut of his pale throat with insistent kisses by biting down on the base of his neck <em> hard.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima lets out a choked gasp that tapers into a whine when Kuroo’s teeth sink into his skin, breath hitching when Kuroo laves over the bruised skin with his tongue. Tsukishima retaliates with a sharp tug of his hair, the efficacy of his glare softened by the deep flush on the peaks of his cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>“You <em> animal </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>He gasps when Kuroo continues to kiss him down his chest, arching his back to meet the heated trail of soft, barely-there kisses and bruising nips of his teeth, writhing when Kuroo finally reaches his nipple. </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo traces hypnotising circles around his nipple over the silk with his nail while he takes the other into his mouth, flicking at the peaked nub over and over with the tip of his tongue, and Tsukishima can do nothing but let him have his way, moaning thinly into the air and squirming in Kuroo's grip.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no,” Kuroo clicks his tongue, gently prying Tsukishima’s hand from the vice of his teeth when he notices his valiant attempt to muffle the desperate noises being ripped from his throat due to the older man’s ministrations. “Let Daddy hear you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Get a move on,” Tsukishima mutters behind the hand resting on his lips, hand travelling down his legs to try to relieve the pressure of his cock pulsing in the confines of his now too tight underwear. “Please.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo groans from between his thighs, teeth sinking into the meat of Tsukishima’s inner thigh. “I’m getting there, Moonshine.” He replies, still too preoccupied with making sure that not one inch of the soft skin of the blond’s thighs was left unscathed. </p><p> </p><p>“Goddamn, look at <em> you,” </em>Kuroo says breathlessly, committing the view of Tsukishima in front of him, blond curls strewed haphazardly on his pillow, a vision in flushed skin, pink silk, and ivory lace. </p><p> </p><p>The marks of his overzealous kisses are a stark red on the backdrop of the younger’s pale skin, but what truly captures his attention is the dark spot where Tsukishima’s cock is pressed upon his belly, leaking in his underwear.</p><p> </p><p>When Tsukishima notices where he’s staring, his face burns in mortification but does nothing to hide his obvious arousal from Kuroo, especially when he’s dipping down to push the hem of his slip up, kissing down his belly and trailing his fingers up to rest on the waistband stretched over Tsukishima’s hips. </p><p> </p><p>“Hips up, baby.” Comes the heated command from Kuroo, lips pressed into the skin of his belly button before it’s followed by a flick of his tongue on the rosy tip of Tsukishima’s cock. </p><p> </p><p>“What?” Tsukishima asks, already dazed with arousal.</p><p> </p><p>“Hips up, baby,” Kuroo repeats, smirking at Tsukishima. “I’m going to fuck you now.”</p><p> </p><p>The flush on Tsukishima’s chest turns a deeper red, nodding a touch too enthusiastically. Kuroo’s filthy mouth truly had no bounds, and Tsukishima was too, <em> too </em>, desperate to keep playing this game of push and pull. </p><p> </p><p>If all he needs to bring Kuroo to his knees and grant him each and every one of his whims is to be constantly naked save a pair of absurdly expensive lingerie that barely covers his ass, then so be it. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, daddy, please.” Tsukishima breaths out, gasping at the burn of his thighs being spread even further apart, his knees nearly meeting his ears at this point. “Tetsu, please.” Kuroo’s eyes darken even more at the sight of Tsukishima’s flexibility in full display, all too excited at the sheer thought of Tsukishima this pliant and good for him at seven in the morning. </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s actions are quick and methodical when he sheds his shirt off in one fluid motion, pushing the waistband of his pyjamas down to roll a condom over himself under ten seconds. </p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima’s moan is obscene when Kuroo finally, <em> finally, </em>pulls the crotch of his panties to the side and enters him without preamble until his hips flush between Tsukishima’s spread thighs, finally letting out a loud groan on the younger’s chest. </p><p> </p><p>“Holy <em> fuck. </em>” Kuroo breathes when he bottoms out, while Tsukishima outright sobs at feeling so overwhelmingly full. “T—Tetsu,” The younger gasps, tears trailing down his temples when wraps his arms tight around Kuroo’s neck for purchase. “Kiss me, please.”</p><p> </p><p>Now, who would even have the actual will power to say no to Tsukishima Kei when he’s begging so sweetly like that, teary-eyed and petal lips parted and quivering in desperation?</p><p> </p><p>Without a second of doubt and a thumb brushing against the corner of Tsukishima’s mouth, Kuroo leans in to seal their lips together, a long breath from his nose hitting Tsukishima’s cheek. Tsukishima makes a small noise in the back of his throat of finally having the older man’s lips on his again, especially when Kuroo turns his head to the side to deepen the kiss, letting out a butchered breath when Kuroo licks into his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>They part with a wet sound when Tsukishima jerks away, breathing hard as if he ran in a marathon, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks when Kuroo starts to move his hips slowly. “More,” Tsukishima moans, his chest heaving with exhilaration. “I want you, come on.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Kuroo answers, slotting their mouths again as he adjusts his grip on Tsukishima’s thighs, leaning back to sit on his heels before pulling his hips back in preparation. “I got you, Moonshine.”  Kuroo’s eyes darken with something Tsukishima can’t put his finger on, but that train of thought quickly gets derailed when the former holds him down and thrusts in <em> hard, </em> the latter screaming out in a mix of shock and pleasure. </p><p> </p><p>“Keep doing that,” Tsukishima cries out, honey gold eyes rolling into the back of his head at the hard pace Kuroo has set up, the sheer angle of his thrusts making him sob when Kuroo’s cock brushes against his prostate. “Please, don’t stop doing that.” </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo doesn’t even grace him with a taunting or teasing remark, burying his head back into the crook of Tsukishima’s neck. He groans into his skin, deep and gravely, when Tsukishima clenches around him as he thrusts up, finally hitting his sweet spot. </p><p> </p><p>From there, things get hazy as Kuroo’s pace reaches a fever pitch. </p><p> </p><p>Neither of them even fully remember the events that truly transpired that morning in the aftermath, only bits and pieces, a vignette of sorts. </p><p> </p><p>Sharp nails digging into a muscular back and dragging down the skin. The sound of muffled curses against a tanned shoulder as strong hands imprinted harshly and gripped at a pair of slim hips. The feeling of hot, quick breaths against a pale neck and slender arms scrambling for purchase as white, hot pleasure shot through the younger's spine, making him arch against the sheets almost violently.</p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima barely registers the sound of something ripping over his sharp moans, but with the sudden shock of cool air on his overheated skin around his thighs allows him to make a rough estimate on the damage, before focusing on Kuroo once more. </p><p> </p><p>There’s sweat dripping down his temples, hands locked tight around his hips that Tsukishima just knows the lovely shades of red and purple that would bloom on his skin in the coming days, and he’s thrusting into Tsukishima hard enough that the younger spills untouched on himself, the streaks of white prominent on the pink silk ruched on his belly.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep going, Daddy,” Tsukishima whines, blinking tears away from his eyes and wrapping his legs insistently around Kuroo’s waist, arching up to him despite the bone-deep exhaustion and the protests from his nerves going haywire<em> ,  </em>despite how he wants to shake out of his own skin with the way Kuroo’s still driving his cock against his abused prostate with pinpoint accuracy. “Finish in me.”</p><p> </p><p>When Tsukishima manages to moan those words, Kuroo’s pace starts to falter. He feels his own release building at the base of his spine, and in a fit of desperation, he wraps a fist around Tsukishima’s cock, much to the weak hand gripping his wrist like a lifeline, just to make him clench involuntarily around his cock. </p><p> </p><p> “One more, Kei, I’m so close<em> —oh fuck.”  </em></p><p> </p><p>The image of Tsukishima close to another bout of tears and gasping on his lap was something Kuroo was definitely going to remember for future use when he fucks up into Tsukishima one final time, savouring the tightness of his walls as he keens in oversensitivity, finally releasing into the younger man at the same time Tsukishima spurts weakly over his fist.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo, for lack of a better word, just collapses on top of Tsukishima when he slips out and the adrenaline leaves his body boneless and very, very, sated. They don't speak for a while, nuzzling on Tsukishima’s cheek affectionately, stroking his hair and scratching gently at his scalp to bring him down from the clouds. </p><p> </p><p>Tsukishima, in turn, strokes down the line of his back and traces random shapes on his skin, pressing a kiss on Kuroo’s temple. Their combined messes are drying in a congealed mess in between their bellies, and after some time, it starts to get uncomfortable. </p><p> </p><p>It really proves to be uncomfortable when Kuroo has to <em> peel </em>the wet silk off his bare stomach, making them both groan and wrinkle their noses in disgust.</p><p> </p><p>After tying the used condom and tossing it to the nearby bin, Kuroo rummages in his nightstand for a pack of wipes that he uses to clean Tsukishima as best as he can before moving to do himself, then he starts laughing when Tsukishima can barely get his limbs in order to strip his clothes off. </p><p> </p><p>“Let me help,” Kuroo offers, helping Tsukishima out of the thigh highs one leg at a time. Then, he tugs the flimsy pair of underwear down his thighs. The sight of Tsukishima’s limbs spread out like that would’ve powered him through another round, but Kuroo is too tired, too sticky, and too hungry to listen to his dick again.</p><p> </p><p>The slip is the last to go, and Tsukishima sinks into the sheets with a relieved sound, savouring the cool side of the bed against his bare skin. He opens one eye to stare at Kuroo, nuzzling at the hand in his hair. “You’re handwashing that.” He says, referring to the crumpled silk laying on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Kuroo laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“It's hand wash only. Unless you fancy having to explain the stains to the dry cleaners, I suggest you rinse it out first. Don’t leave it in water,” Tsukishima murmurs, exhaustion settling over him like a weighted blanket. “It’ll dull the shine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you genuinely reciting lingerie care guides at me as pillow talk?” Kuroo asks before Tsukishima shoots him with a dirty glare. “Someone has to make sure you don’t bankrupt yourself with your deplorable spending getting replacements for that.” The younger man sniffs before he’s tugging the comforters over himself to hide the grin on his lips. </p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Get you a boyfriend that educates you on proper garment care as pillow talk.</p><p>La Perla and Agent Provocateur are both legit luxury lingerie brands, and for a visual on what Kuroo gets Tsukishima, here they are. <a href="https://us.laperla.com/powder-pink-silk-satin-slip-with-frastaglio/"> This </a> swanky lil' piece is the slip, and <a href="https://us.laperla.com/pink-silk-brazilian-briefs-with-ivory-frastaglio/"> these </a> are the matching underwear. <a href="https://www.agentprovocateur.com/int_en/new-in/amber-stocking-champ-champ-in-champagne-110155"> These </a> are the thigh highs.</p><p>Writing these has been fun, but I don't think I'll be writing until mid-2021, if I'm being honest. Cheers to Chungha for her song, Dream of You, for powering me to actually finish this series. Title is from Britney Spears' Hot as Ice. </p><p>Swing by my bird app, if you like:<a href="https://twitter.com/_iwaizumeme">  @_iwaizumeme </a></p><p>Btws, stay tuned for the last one, <i> winks. </i></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>